Damned
by acelenny
Summary: Mortis Gaunt is damned. Mortis Gaunt is doomed. An abomination, born to a family that is hated and feared and with death quite literally hanging over his head; can he really be blamed for how he is? Follow the journey of the first necromancer in 600 years as he makes his way through the wizarding world. Will he help it to rise, or will he help to tear it down, and build it anew?
1. Chapter 1: The damned and the damning

**Author's Note:**

 **Hello everyone, quick note just to say that the idea for this new story just popped into my head yesterday and so I spent a little while writing a chapter for it. I know that it is short, but like with my first story, I expect the chapters to get longer as I get into it. Having said that, my focus is on my first little story and so this one will probably progress even more slowly than the other one, which is really saying something considering how little free time I truly have now that I have started at University.**

 **Standard disclaimer applies: As much as I may be deluded, I am well aware that I do not own Harry Potter or anything else used within this story that belongs to someone else.**

 **Please enjoy (if you can) and give me any and all feedback that you can; I am very new to writing anything other than school essays so I really do need the advice.**

 **Also, I apologies for how broken this chapter may appear to many of you but honestly, I attempted to write a more full opening chapter and it just seemed so boring and like a thousand other fanfics that almost everyone has read and I really didn't want to start this off like that.**

 **Chapter 1: Screams in the night**

 **'Life is a bitch and then you die.' Never had truer words been spoken in the English language. This at least, was how Mortis Gaunt felt. For him it seemed, the fates had reserved as many tribulations as it was possible to impose on one being. He was born doomed and he would die damned.**

 **He sat in a carriage on the Hogwarts express, heading off to his first year at Britain's premier school for witchcraft and wizardry. No one sat with him. No one sat in the compartment ahead of his. No one sat in the compartment behind his. When people passed by, they did so as quickly as possible, glancing towards the closed door as they hurried past, their conversations dropping off abruptly as they neared and starting up again once they had passed.**

 **Mortis had closed the blinds on the door and so he saw none of this, but he knew it was happening none the less. It was the same as it had always been. The same as it always would be. Now, he sat by the window with the hood of his school robes pulled up as far as it would go, completely obscuring his features. He did not want anyone to see his face. He could not stand for them to see the occasional tear that slid down his face as he lost himself in his thoughts.**

 **Slowly, he reached a slim fingered hand with a single ring on it into his robes and withdrew a slim book from an inside pocket. Propping it open on his lap, he picked up from where he had left off. He spent the next six hours reading, almost unmoving; all the while wishing that someone would just open the door and speak to him, while praying that they did not.**

 **Once the train had pulled into Hogsmeade's station, he stepped off the train and strode towards when the half-giant was calling for all first-year students. He had no trouble making his way across the crowded platform as the students in his way parted like the red sea before his hooded figure. He ignored them. At that moment, the students meant nothing to him. Their looks meant nothing to him. Their whispered words meant nothing to him.**

 **He knew that some of them, the older students at the very least, would have some idea of whom, and what he was. He held his head high, a cruel smirk spreading across his lips.**

 **He could feel their fear, their hatred, their disgust… their sorrow.**

 **He craved it. He loved it.**

 **He hated it. He wished it was not directed at him.**

 **As they reached the boats at the bottom of the small path, the other students made to clamber into the boats, four in each as instructed. He however was blocked as he tried to move towards them by an apologetic face and a huge hand pointing him towards a boat set a little to the side of the others.**

 **A boat all his own. Of course, he would have one. That suited him just fine.**

 **Under his hood, he could see the sneers and smirks on some of the children's faces. The faces of the ones who knew.**

 **As he reached the water's edge and climbed into the boat, the water around him began to frost over, just as the ground had done as they had walked down to the boats.**

 **"So, they allowed the Abomination to come to Hogwarts then. My father will be disgusted when he hears of this. I wouldn't even bother unpacking if I were you. I shouldn't think that you'll be here for long."**

 **No one came to his defence, why would they? But everyone's attention was suddenly drawn to him and those who were ignorant about him looked confused.**

 **The words were to be expected, but that didn't make them hurt any less. It did surprise him though that someone could know what he was, and presumable had heard what he could do, and yet still tried to rile him up. Was the boy simply brave? Stupid? Overly arrogant? Perhaps all of those or none.**

 **"Draco Malfoy, how nice to meet you again. I shouldn't bother running to Lucius. He knew months ago that I would be coming here and yet, here I am."**

 **His voice was soft, so soft that the other students waiting on the stair had to lean in to hear him. It made for quite an amusing spectacle really, all of them leaning in while staying as far away as they thought they could get away with on the stairs without disobeying the Deputy Headmistress' instructions to stay where they were.**

 **Malfoy opened his mouth to respond but was interrupted by the return of Professor McGonagall.**

 **"Please follow me in an orderly fashion, everything is ready for the sorting."  
_**

 **She paused before she called his name. No, she did more than that. She stopped and turned to look at the Headmaster; perhaps seeking confirmation that he truly wanted this. Dumbledore simply smiled serenely at her and motioned for her to continue with a gently wave of a hand.**

 **She almost managed to say his name without stutter. Almost.**

 **"Gaunt, Mortis."**

 **He walked forward to the front of the Great Hall, all the while keeping his eyes focussed upon the old man in front of him. When he reached the stool, he turned and sat down on it gracefully and without hurry.**

 **"Mr Gaunt, you need to remove your hood in order for the sorting hat to be able to sort you."**

 **The hooded head looked up at her, the face still invisible within the fabric's depths.**

 **"Are you quite sure that you want me to do that Professor? You know what I look like, it might cause some of them some…. Distress."**

 **He sounded so courteous, so conscientious and polite. The words even sounded genuine, but his words left Professor McGonagall cold inside. He reminded her so much of… the other one. But of course, that was only to be expected, wasn't it?**

 **"I am quite certain Mr Gaunt, unless you think that you know more about how student have been sorted at this school for the past millennium that I do?"**

 **Mortis did not deign to reply. Instead, he looked back towards the rest of the students, bathing in the looks they were giving him and the emotions that were almost visibly rolling off many.**

 **Slowly, he reached up to the sides of his head and pinched the fabric of his hood between his fingers. Carefully, he pulled backwards and let the hood fall away to reveal his face.**

 **Some of them actually screamed,**


	2. Chapter 2: Whispers in the night

**Chapter 2: Whispers in the night**

 **A/N**

 **Just going to apologies for the very 'bitty' nature of this story, I fully expect it to frustrate some people. I will just say that it is because I am thinking of the plot of I write and this is very much an aside from my first story. Eventually I may end up rewriting this in full, so to speak, to a standard that I will actually be happy with but for at least a little while, this is how it is going to be.**

 **Also, please do give me any feedback that springs to mind. I really am very inexperienced at writing and I want to improve and if no one points things out to me improvement will take longer and won't be as great.**

'The eyes are the gateway to the soul'. That is what many people believe. Perhaps they are right. Perhaps they simply see what they want to see.

From where Harry Potter stood waiting to be sorted, it seemed that the eyes belonging to the boy being sorted were gateway to a hellish oblivion. As he looked into them, he felt as though his soul was being sucked down into their depths. They were simply…wrong. No person she have eyes so black. Eyes which were black from corner to corner with no discernible difference between pupil, iris or white.

He pulled his gaze away to look at the rest of the boy's features. The short, greasy black hair with the long fringe flopping over one eye. The paleness of his face, the same colour as bone. The scars that no child should bear; crisscrossing over his face and neck. Everything about the boy, seemed so very wrong and off putting. So very tragic in its own way. With the sunken cheeks and the skin that stretched just a touch too tightly across his bones, he even lived up to his name. Gaunt.

Around him, several of the girls were looking away, some with hands over their mouths. Beside him, Ron was looking angry and not a little horrified.

 _"You should not be here. Even Salazar Slytherin himself had no particular love for your kind and he was as dark as any wizard."_

Mortis clenched his jaw slightly. Even a talking hat saw fit to pass judgement upon him for something that was not his fault.

"I have as much right to be here as any wizard."

 _"Perhaps. But barely. The Gaunt family has been banished from this school for over two centuries. Nasty habits your ancestors had."_

"Would you please get on with this? You know as well as I do where I belong. It is my birth right, so give me it!"

 _"Very well. You had better run along to….Slytherin!"_

As the hat shouted the last word out loud, Mortis reached up and handed the hat back to the deputy headmistress before pulling his hood back over his head. As he made his way over to the Slytherin table he held his head high and did not deign to too at the rest of the hall. Despite looking like they would very much like to deny him a place at the table, his house mate grudgingly shuffled up to leave as much space at the end of the table as possible, none of them wanting to have to sit next to him until the feast was over.

Feeling their eyes on him as sat there, he turned his head to look at them from within the folds of his hood. Most looked away rather than be under his scrutiny. A few continued to shoot him glances as they whispered to their friends. One girl with raven hair and blue eyes continued to look at him though, at least until he met het gaze directly. Despite not actually being able to see his eyes in the shadows of his hood, the girl looked away, choosing instead to focus on the food which had just appeared on the table, the final first year having been sorted.

Over at the Gryffindor table, Harry was happily tucking into his food, trying to ignore the flecks of potatoe that flew past his head as Ron ranted on next to him while still trying to stuff his face. Swallowing his mouthful, he managed to slip a word in edgeways as Ron paused in order to breath and plop an extra few sausages onto his plate.

"Ok, so he looks a bit creepy, but I still don't understand what the big problem is about Gaunt. He's still just a kid like us, isn't he?"

He came to regret having said anything. Seeing the contents of Ron's mouth as he turned to him and gaped would haunt him for a week. It was almost as bad as seeing Dudley during Christmas lunches at the Dursley's house.

"He's unnatural Harry! Things like him shouldn't be allowed to exist. Him being a Slytherin just proves how evil and dark he is to top it off. Apparently, when he was born there was this big thing about whether the ministry was going to execute him and his mum or not. Wish they had. I can't believe that they allowed him to come to Hogwarts. Bet Dumbledore tried to stop it."

Across from them, the bushy haired girl who had sat with them on the train set her cutlery down. "Really, being a Slytherin doesn't make him evil Ronald, though, I have to admit, he is unnatural. I read about him when I was doing some background reading during the Summer. He's the first necromancer in six hundred years, when I got to the bit about how they're created my mum took the book away from me. It really wasn't suitable for children from what I saw."

Harry couldn't help but frown at her. Having no access to his new belongings during the last weeks of the summer had meant that he hadn't been able to read any of his wizarding books. "How do you mean Hermione? And, what is a necromancer? I know what it is for muggles but I'm guessing that it's not the same for wizard."

Hermione blushed and, looking distinctly uncomfortable refused to answer. Instead choosing to return to her food. Harry look to Ron but his new friend just shrugged and continued eating and so he was left confused and annoyed. He tried speaking to catch the attention of Ron's twin brothers to see if they would help, but they were too focussed on something their friend Lee Jordan was trying to show them under the table.

Finding that he had eaten enough. He tried to look as inconspicuously as possible across the hall at the Gaunt boy sitting alone at the Slytherin table. He spent the time until the end of the feast contemplating his own thoughts, only breaking free of them to listen to the Headmaster's surprisingly sombre start of year announcements and then to join his fellow Gryffindors in head to the tower that would be his home for the next seven years.


End file.
